


Wrapped Up Tight

by FreshBrains



Series: Femslash Yuletide [12]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Christmas Presents, F/F, Femslash Yuletide, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Timeline What Timeline, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2772650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey, loser.  Got you something.”  Lila lingers in the doorway, her smile smarmy and mischievous as usual.  She holds a pink tissue-wrapped package in one hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrapped Up Tight

**Author's Note:**

> For the Femslash Yuletide Day 14 Prompt: Re-gifting.
> 
> Hand-wavey timeline since the affair was during the summer, not the holidays.

“Hey, loser.  Got you something.”  Lila lingers in the doorway, her smile smarmy and mischievous as usual.  She holds a pink tissue-wrapped package in one hand.

“I thought I locked up,” Rebecca mutters, looping her headphones around her neck.  “Shut the door, you’re letting in the cold.”

Lila rolls her eyes but slams the door shut on her way in, loud enough to rattle the dishes in the cupboard.  “Someone’s bitchy today.  Maybe I won’t give you your present after all.”  She slides down on the floor next to Rebecca where she’s bundled up in her blankets and pillows—the room above hers has a leak again, right over her bedroom, so she’s relegated to kitchen-floor sleeping again.

“Now I’m dying with curiosity,” Rebecca deadpans, eyeing the package.  “Like hell you bought me something and wrapped it.  Who gave it to you?”

“ _Super_ bitchy today,” Lila scoffs, crawling on her hands and knees over to Rebecca to straddle her over her mound of blankets.  Her pupils are blown; she’s high as usual, probably just weed but maybe something more.  Rebecca hates how gorgeous she is when she’s high.  Her breath is sweet like pink alcohol when she leans down and presses her smudged red lips against Rebecca’s.  “Darcy.  But it isn’t my color.  It’s yours.”

Rebecca opens her eyes, dazed from Lila’s stupid kiss, and croaks, “Give it here, then.”  She wishes Lila wouldn’t mention Darcy right after kissing her, it makes her feel gross, but she takes what she can get.

Lila giggles and grabs the package, sitting up on her knees.  “Once I saw it I knew you had to have it.”  Her skirt rides up on her thighs and Rebecca can see the shadow of her underwear, lacey and soft, and she _hates_ Darcy so bad right then and there, hates that he gives Lila gifts she doesn’t want, hates that he’s still allowed to slide his hands under her short skirts and peel back her underwear. 

Rebecca rips back the tissue paper, already torn and frayed from when Lila opened it the first time.  It’s a soft package, small and delicate, and she swallows hard when she touches fabric.  “ _Please_ tell me you didn’t just re-gift your sugar daddy’s lingerie to me.”

“But _look_ ,” Lila sighs, annoyed.  She takes the package from Rebecca and pulls away the remaining paper.  A silk robe the color of grape juice slides out in a soft cascade, trimmed in black lace, looking stark as a bruise against Lila’s pale skin.  “It’s so you, Rebecca.  It’s perfect.”

Rebecca reaches out and touches the fabric.  It’s like cool water against her skin.  She’s never owned something so nice, could never afford to, and she can imagine herself lounging around the apartment in it, curled up in her blanket nest, watching Lila cook hangover breakfast in her underwear.  Lila’s right—it’s perfect.  “Tacky,” she says, willing her voice not to crack.  “But thanks.”

Lila grins triumphantly.  She could always read Rebecca too easily.  “No problem.”  She sinks down into the blankets next to Rebecca, exhausted after doing god-knows-what until the early morning, and Rebecca’s glad Lila decided to make her apartment the last stop.  “Merry Christmas, Sutter.”

“Yeah,” Rebecca says, carding her fingers through Lila’s hair.  “Whatever.”


End file.
